


5 Times Sonic Caught Himself Before Calling Them 'Mom & Dad' and 1 Time He Didn't Hold Back

by Invader_Sam



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: 10 years alone will mess you up, 5+1 Things, Adopted Children, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Slice of Life, this kid has been through some stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23055073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Invader_Sam/pseuds/Invader_Sam
Summary: Sonic, Tom and Maddie adjust to life under one roof, with all the angst and shenanigans you'd expect.Rated for the occassional swear word.
Relationships: Sonic the Hedgehog & Maddie Wachowski, Sonic the Hedgehog & Tom Wachowski
Comments: 312
Kudos: 1240





	1. Chapter 1

**The First Time**

He'd never slept in a bed before. Well, there'd been a bed in that motel on the way to San Fransisco, but that didn't really count. And he hadn't so much 'slept' as he'd 'passed out from sheer exhaustion due to being on the run from a megalomaniac'. So, again, it didn't count. This whole thing was new.

Waking up in a bed.

A bed that was _his._

In a room that was _his._

In a house _._

A house with other people.

People who'd given him this room.

This bed, shaped like a race car.

If he thought about it too long, too hard, his chest got tight.

Like it was doing now.

There was a tapping from the floor, where the pull-down stairs were, but he didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the comforter up over his head, rolling away from the sound.

“Sonic?” Tom's voice, muffled through the wood and insulation and drywall, didn't sound concerned. Merely curious. “You gonna wake up sometime today? It's almost noon.”

The tightness in the hedgehog's chest didn't go away. In the darkness under the covers, he shut his burning eyes. _'Just go away. Please. Just go–'_

Another voice, softer, sweeter, floated up. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“It's been two days. He should at least eat. I'm gonna go make something.”

Despite how hard he kept his eyes shut, it didn't stop the tears from forcing their way down his cheeks. They were worried about him? After everything he'd put them through? A gasping sob slipped out and he bit his tongue, hard. He couldn't risk them hearing.

“He'll come down when he's ready.” He could practically hear Tom put his arm around Maddie. “C'mon.”

The creaking floorboards signaled their departure, but relief didn't come. Just more tears.

It didn't make sense. He'd been so happy. Two days ago they'd tucked him in – _tucked him in!_ – and he'd drifted off giggling, at long last excited to see what the next day would bring.

He hadn't gotten out of bed since.

His normally lighter-than-air frame felt like lead, and sure, he'd used a ton of power and energy over the last few days, but he'd never had trouble bouncing back before. Why couldn't he muster the strength to get up, go downstairs, see the people who'd given him his first real home in ten years?

Now they probably thought he was an asshole, taking their hospitality for granted.

They were probably right.

He curled tighter in on himself, the pillow wet and the air around him humid and hot. The tears only stopped when he drifted off, fitfully, some time later.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again the light pouring in from the skylight was a dark pink. He'd flailed the comforter off in his sleep and now he was cold. And sticky. Sweat made the fur cling to his body, made the sheets stick to his fur, and it was so uncomfortable he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Everything was sore and his head felt fuzzy as he blinked around the room.

Through bleary eyes, he spotted it.

A plate.

Sitting right next to the drop-down stairs.

With a sandwich and chips and a bottle of water.

A sound came out of his mouth that was a strange mixture of a laugh and a sob and he swung his legs off of the bed. A couple of wobbly steps and he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He had to force the first bite, but he inhaled the rest, then licked the crumbs from the plate and downed the water in one long continuous gulp.

As he put the bottle down his stomach – now slightly distended – gave a churning, gurgling sound and he groaned. Nature was calling.

The stairs lowered without much effort but more than enough noise to wake the dead. He cringed. So much for taking care of business undetected. He could hear footsteps and seriously considered pulling the ladder back up and climbing out the skylight, but then Maddie came into view. Her mouth was smiling but her eyes didn't sell it. “Hey you.”

“Uh, h-hey.” He slowly made his way down the stairs, eyes anywhere but on her. “Thanks, um, for-for lunch. I didn't mean to – I mean, I did, I guess – but if you were in the middle of something you can just got back to – but, um, before you do that, maybe you could point me in the direction of the men's room?” He twisted his gloved hands together, gaze on his socks.

If she shared his embarrassment, she didn't show it. “Around the corner, second door on the right.”

“Got it. Thanks. Again.” He tried to run, but his legs still felt too shaky, wouldn't do what he told them. Walking was the order of the day, apparently.

She didn't follow him. From behind the closed bathroom door he could hear her turn on the radio in the kitchen – news, from the sound of it – and he felt a little bit of the queasy tension leave his stomach.

The room was big – bigger than any truck stop bathroom he'd ever used (sometimes digging a hole in the woods just felt a little too _animal_ and he'd given doing things the human way a try) and cleaner too. As he was pulling off his gloves to wash his hands, his eyes kept darting over to the tub. He'd never taken a bath before. He'd tried the shower at the motel and that was fine – like a rain storm that just happened to be scalding – but kind of boring. In the woods being clean hadn't really been a priority. When it rained, he ran around in it, and that was that. He hadn't been a fan of the ocean. But the tub...looked inviting.

Cautiously, curiously, he drew closer. It seemed straightforward enough. One handle had a little 'h' on it, the other a 'c'. He twisted the 'h' handle.

Instantly a spray of unexpectedly cold water dropped down on him from over his head. Yelping, he jerked back and looked up. Instead of from the faucet, the water was coming from the shower head up above. “Aw, come on!”

“Everything ok in there?”

Maddie's voice at the door had him squeaking again, face hot as he scrambled to shut off the water. “Oh yeah! Totally fine! Nothing to see...” The door opened. “...here. H-hey again.” He managed a weak smile as he turned to face her, water dripping from his flattened ears.

The woman he'd only thought of as 'Pretzel Lady' for years didn't look upset at the mess. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene, but the corner of her mouth twitched upwards as she said, “The hot and cold water are reversed.”

“Huh?”

“For the shower. That's what happens when you've got a husband who thinks watching a YouTube video means he's 'practically an expert'. You get a house full of quirks.”

“Uh, right.”

She turned and opened a door, reached in and pulled out a fluffy white towel that looked new. “You get the hang of it though.” She set the towel down on top of the closed toilet seat. “Want me to show you?”

“Oh, um, no. I mean, not, like, _no_ 'no', but I can just–” He put a hand on the towel. “Clean up the mess. Get out of your hair. No big deal.” His gaze fell on the tub again and he bit his bottom lip.

Maddie considered him for a moment. He seemed so much smaller now, socked feet shuffling on the tile, ears flat against his head. Was this really the same creature who'd knocked out power to most of the northwestern US? Deep down in her chest something ached. Tom had gone to work – the late shift at the station today – so it was just her and their new house guest.

No, that wasn't right. An orphan alien who'd lived in a cave on the outskirts of town, who could travel faster than the speed of sound, who'd roped her husband (and her) into a death-defying chase across three states...well, 'house guest' didn't exactly do it justice. He'd called them his 'best friends', but that didn't feel right either. She could remember coming onto Main St, seeing him crawling away from that...that monster. The way her heart had launched itself up her throat, she'd been so afraid for him, had felt so helpless.

She felt helpless in this moment as well, but in a different way. It had been her idea to invite him to stay with them, but maybe it had been too much change too soon. He looked so uncomfortable, so unlike the bubbly, energetic hedgehog she thought she knew. But that was being presumptuous for sure. They'd only met less than a week ago. A connection was there, but it was tenuous, fragile.

“The only thing you're keeping me from is a sink full of dishes.” A few steps closer and she reached past him to plug the drain, switch the faucet from 'shower' to 'bath' mode, and twist the nozzle marked 'c'. “C'mon, lets get you cleaned up.”

Sonic blinked, watching as she sat herself on the wall of the tub. “Huh?”

“Put your hand under there.” She pointed at the stream of water. “Is that too hot?”

Warily he did as she instructed, then pulled his bare hand back with a wince. “Maybe a little.”

She gave the 'h' nozzle a twist, put her own hand under the faucet. “How 'bout now?”

He tried again, let the warm water run up his forearm. “Yeah.”

“All right. That's gonna take a few minutes to fill up.” She leaned back on the heel of her palm, lips pursed. “We don't really have any toys or anything...oh! Hang on.”

His brow furrowed, eyes following her. “I don't need–I'm not a little–what're you looking for?”

“Something I've been saving since my bridal shower.” She was back at the little closet, looking for all intents and purposes like she might be trying to find Narnia for how far in she was leaning. “I hope I didn't throw them away last time I was cleaning out the – ah ha! Here we go!” She reemerged with what looked like a plastic-wrapped ball of chalk in one hand.

He merely quirked one ear up at her.

She grinned. Coming back to the tub, she unwrapped the ball and offered it to him. “Drop it in.”

The thing in his hand was blue with pink and green swirls marbled through it. It smelled – he brought it up to his nose – like the wildflowers that grew along the riverbank in the summer. He snorted, surprised. The humans kept managing to do that – surprise him. With a shrug, he held it out over the half-full tub and let it fall into the water.

Whatever he'd been expecting it to do, it wasn't this. The immediate fizzing and bubbling and just how quickly it filled the tub with a rainbow of suds had him letting out a tiny delighted gasp. He leaned over to watch more closely. The wildflower smell was growing stronger, rising up around him with the steam. “What the heck is that thing?”

“It's called a 'bath bomb'.” Maddie retook her seat on the edge of the tub.

“That checks out.”

She laughed softly and shut off the water. “It's been collecting dust in the closet for years. I don't usually make time for baths.”

He nodded slowly. “...yeah, me neither.”

“Well, no time like the present.”

He stood, hands on the lip of the tub, eyes on the water, for a long moment. “So you just...what? Hop in?”

“Pretty much. Might wanna take your socks off first.”

“Right, right, yeah, duh.” He was already kicking them away. “Ok. Here goes nothin'.” In one smooth motion he hoisted himself up and over the edge, landing with a small splash in the basin. Standing, the water already reached his waist and as he sank down instinctively, it rose up over his shoulders, enveloping him like a frothy, colorful, sweet-smelling cocoon. The low, throaty laugh that passed his lips wasn't planned and he felt his muzzle warm even as he worked his more confident smirk back into place as cover. “Yeah, I guess this is better than the pacific.”

“I should hope so.” Maddie grinned. She dipped her hands into the water, came up with a pile of soft blue bubbles and let them fall on top of his head. Careful to work with the grain so as not to get pricked, she began working her fingers through his quills. He made a confused noise and she pulled back. “D'you mind? Sorry, should've asked first.”

“No I guess not.” He shrugged, shoulders appearing and then disappearing beneath the suds just as quickly. “You're the one who knows what you're doing.”

“A little bit anyway.” She resumed her work, thinking about how it was sort of like giving Ozzie a bath and simultaneously how vastly different it was. One only-somewhat-surprising similarity was discovered unintentionally when she went to scrub behind his ears and he gave a whole-body shudder.

It was immediately followed by a high-pitched, nervous laugh and then the hedgehog dunked himself fully underwater, resurfacing at the other end of the tub, slicking his quills back and not making eye contact. “Who made _that_ embarrassing noise? Not _this_ guy, that's for sure. Must've been some totally _un_ cool kid passing by the window just now. Like maybe a baby or something,” he rambled, sinking lower until his words were merely bubbles rising in front of his nose.

“Sonic...” Maddie said gently.

She got only bubbles in response.

“Do you like getting your ears rubbed?”

He raised his head up just enough to mumble, “Apparently.”

Sympathy tinged her smile. Of course this discovery was new to him too. When would he have had the opportunity to learn it before this moment? “If it makes you uncomfortable, I promise I won't do it anymore. I _would_ like to get some of the dirt out of your quills though. If that's all right.”

He fully submerged again, reappearing back at her side. “Yeah ok.” He drew his knees up, wrapping both arms around them. “You won't...you won't tell Tom, will you?”

“Not if you don't want me too.” She scooped up two more handfuls of bubbles and set back to work. “Though I don't think there's anything to be ashamed of. It's ok to like being touched.”

Sonic was quiet, watching the colors in the water move lazily around him. Her fingers in his quills were soothing, carding away the grime. She paused to pick out a larger piece of debris and he froze.

He'd felt this before. Years ago – a lifetime ago – but it had been a beak, not fingers, plucking leaves and grass from his fur. Preening.

His chest felt tight all over again.

Maddie felt him go rigid, waited for him to tell her to stop, but instead the sound of quiet sniffling reached her ears and her heart broke clean in half. “Hey...hey, it's ok.” Her voice was soft, as were her hands, still rhythmically moving. “Do you want me to go?”

He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, glad she was behind him.

“All right. I'm gonna keep working then. You just breathe, ok? With me, ok? In through the nose and out through the mouth. In through the nose and out through the mouth.”

He recognized the phrase from her Saturday morning yoga videos. He'd always been so busy trying to bend himself in ways a hedgehog clearly wasn't meant to, he'd never bothered to try the breathing thing. He did now, listening to her inhale and exhale, focusing on matching her languid pace.

The first few exhales were shaky, mortifyingly tainted with whimpers and gasps, but after ten or fifteen repetitions...it started to work. He could feel the tightness in his chest lessen, the muscles in his back relaxed. “Huh,” he muttered. “Guess that wasn't all just BS after all.”

Maddie smiled with relief. She'd been acting on instinct, going with her gut. Her gut had been the right way to go, apparently. “I'll never BS you, kiddo. Promise.”

He chuckled. “I'll hold you to that.”

The water started to cool down soon after and so Maddie showed him which switch to flip to drain the tub, and then how to switch it back to 'shower' mode, which she used to rinse off the suds that were still clinging to his fur. He stepped out of the tub and started to shake dry, but she quickly threw the towel over him, bundling him up before he could make another mess. “Not so fast, mister. That's an out-in-the-yard-only move.”

“Buzzkill.” He stuck out his tongue at her, but then she was rubbing him dry and through the thick towel her fingers hit a spot just under his ribcage and he jerked back with a laugh. “Hey hey! No tickling a guy when he's not ready!”

“My bad.” She was on her knees, closer to eye level, smiling at him as she worked the towel over his quills. “Won't happen again.”

“Good.” He gave her a mock-stern look so she knew he meant business, and then his expression softened. She was as methodical in drying him as she'd been cleaning him – and just as gentle. No wonder Tom and Ozzie both lit up whenever she got home. With the towel clutched around his shoulders, he tried to put on his familiar, confident smirk, but his mouth only made it as far as a shy smile as he mumbled, “But maybe you could rub my ears again sometime?”

She tried to stop herself from cooing – he really was too damn cute for his own good – as she squeezed his shoulders. “Anytime, kiddo.” She chucked his chin with a loose fist and then stood. “Whadda ya say we go get dinner ready?”

“You read my mind.” He nodded, feeling his stomach rumble at the mere mention of more food. “I'm just gonna go grab clean socks and I'll be right there.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She ruffled the fur on the top of his head, gave one ear a quick rub before dropping her hand back to her side and turning to leave.

Face warm, chest swelling with something he couldn't quite name, his mouth moved of it's own accord. “Mo-Maddie?”

“Hmm?” She twisted back around.

“Thanks. For everything. Really.”

Her smile was twice as warm as the bath. “Like I said – anytime, kiddo. See you in a minute. And no 'Tom Cruisin' in the hallway.”

“Aw, whaaa?? Seriously? Buzz. Kill. For realz.”

“Rules are rules.” She smirked as she strode off towards the kitchen.

“Lame!” he called after her, smiling widely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated 4/14/20 to include illustrations by the wonderful https://thebigpalooka.tumblr.com/


	2. The Second Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sonic tags along car-shopping with Tom.

**The Second Time**

“Ya know, for a place that's literally over an acre of vehicles, absolutely _nothing_ is moving around here.”

Tom continued his leisurely meander down the rows of cars, trucks and SUVs at Big Willie's Used Car Lot. “I told you you didn't have to tag along.”

At his side, Sonic strolled with both hands folded behind his quills. “Yeah, but I figured that was 'cause you were gonna go do something fun. Do we even get to drive any of these? Where's the test track?”

The sheriff chuckled. “When I find something I like, _I_ will take it for a test drive, yes. But just around town – at the speed limit. No Tokyo drifting today, bud.”

The hedgehog let out an indignant huff. “Seriously?”

“'Fraid so.”

“Leave it to grown ups to take something as cool as _buying a_ _ **car**_ and make it boring and lame.” Sonic kicked at the gravel, pouting. “Why not just get the same truck you had before?”

Tom slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans as he slowed to look at a 2-door pick-up not unlike the one he'd totaled while they'd been on the run from that government maniac. “...yeah, I dunno. I'm just not feelin' it.”

The teen turned his attention out over the lot, frowning. “Ugh, I can't see anything from down here. Hang on a sec.” With a small burst of speed he scaled the lamppost in the center of the lot, perching up above the lights and the colored flags that hung still in the breeze-less August air.

“H-hey! Get down from there!” Tom called, squinting behind his aviators, one hand forming a visor at his forehead.

“I said 'one sec'!” Sonic hollered back down, attention out at the far end of the lot. After a moment that was too long for Tom's liking, the boy grinned, and zipped back down the pole. “C'mon, over on the side by Third Street – it's perfect!” He reached up and grabbed Tom's hand, tugging excitedly.

The 45-year-old let himself be led, a bemused smile on his face. The kid was getting a little bolder, a little less shy when it came to things like this – physical affection. When they'd first moved him in, he'd kept his distance, hovering around them but not touching.

And then, maybe two weeks after the move, something shifted.

He'd been sitting at the kitchen island, sipping a beer while Maddie made grilled cheese. Sonic had come into the room, sidled up beside her at the stove and pushed his head into her free hand. Maddie had responded by rubbing his ears, and he'd in turn leaned further in, hooking one hand around her leg. Tom had watched them, dumbfounded. The two of them looked so naturally contented, chatting idly all while she continued to pet him.

The first thing he'd felt after the initial surprise had been jealousy. It wasn't fair, or logical even, but he'd felt it all the same. He'd asked Maddie about it later that night, as they got ready for bed.

_“So when did this happen?”_

_“When did what happen?”_

_Tom folded down the comforter, picked up his pillow and then set it back down again. “This whole...snuggly thing you two have going on.”_

_Maddie didn't bother looking up from massaging lotion into her hands. “What? He likes it when I rub his ears.”_

_“Yeah, I picked up on that.”_

_She glanced up at him, quirking an eyebrow. “Are you for real right now with that tone?”_

_He sighed, big and dramatic as he plunked himself down on the bed. “Noooo...and yes.”_

_His wife leaned back into her pillows (three to his one), hands folded in her lap, ankles crossed. “What's going on, hmm?”_

_“_ _I dunno...” He ran a hand over his face as he worked to articulate his thoughts. “It's fine – it's good! Really, it is. It's_ _**so** _ _good to see him...like that.”_

_“Like a kid.”_

_“Yes, absolutely. It's what he needs.”_

_“...but?”_

_“But why can he do that with_ _**you** _ _when all I'm getting are high fives?”_

 _Maddie_ _smiled, reached over and took hold of his hand. “I don't know, babe. Maybe it's a guy-girl thing? Maybe he thinks high fives are just what guys do. Keanu Reeves doesn't exactly do a lot of hugging on screen.”_

_“We should probably force him to watch other movies soon,” Tom muttered, though both of them knew that wasn't really the point at hand. “How'd you even figure out the ear thing?”_

_“Kind of by accident, actually. I was giving him a bath and–”_

_“Wait – he let you give him a_ _**bath?** _ _”_

_“On nights you work the late shift, yeah.”_

_The noise he made could best be described as the call of an agitated cockatiel. “This is a regular thing?”_

_“Babe.” She laughed, squeezed his hand. “Will you relax?”_

_“I – you – he – what? It's like you guys have this whole...secret mother-son ritual and–”_

_“And?”_

_“And_ _**I** _ _want that!” The thought hadn't been solid until it had come out of his mouth but nothing had been truer since their wedding vows. He let out a long exhale, let the fact settle around his shoulders, as a tiny smile tugged at his cheeks. “I want to..._ _to hug him when I get home from work. Have him ride on my shoulders to watch the Homecoming Parade. I want him to hang on my leg like he did with you tonight. I want...I want to_ _be his dad.”_

_Maddie scooted in closer, hugging his arm. “It's kinda weird, right?”_

_“_ _**Very** _ _weird,” he admitted. Kids, as a concept, had never exactly been off the table, but the agreement they'd come to was 'when we're ready, we'll talk about it'. But then there'd been vet school and_ _second_ _jobs and_ _**third jobs** _ _and_ _working opposite shifts and life in general and_ _when_ _they celebrated her 40_ _th_ _birthday in January he'd figured that the window of opportunity had closed. Nothing had been discussed back then._ _T_ _hey'd just carried on as usual,_ _never expecting this alien teenager to come crashing straight through that closed window. He laughed quietly and let his_ _cheek_ _rest against his wife's_ _head, breathing her in_ _. “_ _But in a good way.”_

__

_“Oh for sure.” Quiet fell over the room and then she added. “Sorry I didn't tell you about the ear thing. He asked me not to.”_

_“What? Why?”_

_“I dunno, babe, maybe 'cuz he's fourteen. He watches too many action movies and doesn't want you to tease him or think he's a baby.”_

_“I'd never–”_

_“_ _I know, but he's got these hangups anyway. I, apparently, come with less baggage around my neck, so, even though he was embarrassed at first, he's worked through it. You noticed I didn't say anything about it though, right?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Cuz if I do, he gets shy about it again and backs off. As long as I just do it and don't_ _call_ _any attention to it, it's all good.”_

_“Huh.”_

_“_ _I'm just meeting him where he needs me to be. It's trial and error, believe me. But it's progress.”_

_Tom nodded. At the foot of the bed, Ozzie snorted in his sleep._

So he'd been patient, been present, been available, and had added more family movies with affectionate fathers into the movie night mix (The Incredibles and Field of Dreams had been big hits). And, if this particular moment was any indication, it was starting to pay off.

They came to a stop in front of a Dodge Challenger and Sonic released his hand in order to wave both of his at the vehicle with a flourish, “Ta-da! Beautiful, right? She's perfect!”

“Maybe if you're Vin Diesel.”

“Oh come _on!_ ” A bit of a whine bled into Sonic's voice as he circled the car, eyes shining. “Think of how much fun we could have in this thing!”

“How much trouble we could get into, you mean.”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

Tom moved in closer, peering in the driver's side window. “There's only two seats.”

“How many more do you need?”

Through the car on the other side, Tom could barely see the top of Sonic's ears, and a thought that had been percolating leading up to this trip suddenly solidified. “Well, how many family members to we have?” He watched the ears droop and took the few steps needed to move to the passenger side of the car, where Sonic was fiddling with his gloves. He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and answered his own question. “Because from where I'm standing we've got four. Maddie, me, Ozzie...and you.”

“Oh.” Sonic let out a small, nervous chuckle. “R-right. I knew that.” He ran a hand through his quills, eyes on the car, on the sky, on his shoes, as he kept talking. “That's a lie. I didn't know that. I mean, sure you guys let me live with you and feed me and stuff but best friends do that stuff too, right? I remember Wade crashing on your couch a while back and he was way messier than I am I think. He didn't get his own room or anything but – I dunno what that has to do with anything. Is it getting hot out here? Am I still talking? I feel like I'm still talking. I should probably stop, right? Please stop me.”

“Sonic, take a breath, will you?” Tom crouched down so they were more at eye level. The kid looked like he might be sick, like someone really _had_ cranked the heat up in the parking lot. But as Tom watched, the little blue alien started yoga breathing. _'Something he picked up from Maddie.'_ He reached out, rested a hand on a skinny shoulder. “You ok?”

A little nod. “I think so.” Another deep breath. “That's just a...a _really_ big word.”

“I guess it can be, yeah. But it's one I've been thinking about a lot lately. Because while I love Wade like a brother, I'm not wandering around a used car lot wondering if I'll ever need to carpool him to baseball practice.”

Sonic started picking at the cuffs of his gloves, a tiny smirk on his muzzle. “Yeah, that'd be kinda awkward. Wait – can I sign up for–?”

“In the Spring, if you want to. Let's worry about school first. And a practical car.” He got back to his feet, offered the boy his hand. “You're gonna want Maddie and Ozzie to tag along with us sometimes, right?”

Without hesitation, Sonic took the offered hand, fell in step as they hiked back towards the decidedly un-fast-and-furious cars. “Well yeah. Maddie's the best. And Ozzie's ok, sometimes, I guess.”

“Jealous much?”

“What? Me? Nooooo, no no no, nope, no way, only I've been meaning to ask, what's up with the double standard?”

“Hmm?”

“Dogs get to sleep in your bed, but not hedgehogs?”

“You don't need to be let outside to pee.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“I thought you liked your bed.”

“No, I do. But Ozzie has his own bed in the kitchen too.”

“Yeah, but he doesn't run in his sleep.”

“I don't – how would you even–?”

“We check on you before we turn in.”

“Like a couple of creepers?”

“Like a couple of parents.”

The gloved hand in his squeezed a little tighter and the teen was quiet for a long moment. “Nother big word there,” he finally mumbled.

“Well 'roommates' doesn't seem to cut in, in my opinion.” Tom slowed his pace as they came upon a row of minivans. “You could be my ward, I guess. Like Dick Grayson to my Bruce Wayne.”

“In what universe are _you_ Batman?” Sonic also slowed, following the sheriff's gaze. “And in what universe are _these_ Batmobiles??”

Tom laughed at that. “In our universe. Or we could just start getting used to big words.” He felt another squeeze.

“Maybe.” A beat. A sigh. “You really gonna drive me around in one of these loser cruisers?”

“Yep. With a booster seat and everything.”

“A _**what?!**_ ”

“You heard me. The only reason we haven't gotten a ticket yet for you riding in the front seat is because I'm the sheriff. But we're gonna start following the rules from now on.”

“But–”

“Not buts.”

“ _You're_ a butt,” Sonic grumbled, sounding every bit of his fourteen years.

“Watch it, mister.” Tom's smile betrayed his stern tone.

“Gaaaaaugh!” The hedgehog dragged his free hand down his face. “You're killin' me, Da-Donut Lord.”

Tom glanced down, peering over his sunglasses. Had he imagined that slip? Judging by the pink in the alien's muzzle, the continued rambling about 'losing my rep before I even get to have one', he didn't think so. He almost pointed it out, but Maddie's voice echoed in the back on his brain, _'_ _I'm just meeting him where he needs me to be._ _'_ So instead he just smiled and said, “What can I say? That's what Donut Lord's do best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who's reading and leaving kudos and commenting - you guys have been making my week! I'm going to be posting updates as soon as their done (no backlog here, heh) so I can't tell you when the next one will be, but I AM working on it!
> 
> Updated 4/14/20 to include illustrations by the wonderful https://thebigpalooka.tumblr.com/


	3. The Third Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sonic has a not-so-great day at school.

**The Third Time**

3:05 PM. Maddie tapped the steering wheel mindlessly, eyes on the front doors of Green Hills Middle School. She'd heard the bell ring. It shouldn't be long now.

The windows were rolled down, letting in air that was unseasonably warm for Montana in October. Depending on his mood, maybe she'd suggest going for a run. It was Thursday, which meant Tom was working the late shift, so it'd just be the two of them. With the days getting shorter and a cold snap in the forecast for the weekend, getting out and enjoying the afternoon seemed like a good idea. But again, that would all depend on his mood.

School was starting to feel like a crap-shoot. Some afternoons he bounded down the stone steps, bursting at the seams to tell her about absolutely everything from the cafeteria menu to the trophy case he'd saved from a wayward football. Other days...

The doors swung open and her face fell. Looked like today was going to be another 'other day'. He was never hard to spot – a blue alien hedgehog in amongst a crowd of human teenagers – but on better days sometimes he'd try to surprise her, zipping past the crowd and appearing in the back seat of the SUV before she'd even started to open the door. Today he walked. Walking was never a good sign. He only walked when he had to – or when he wasn't in the mood to run.

She put on a smile and pressed the button on the center console that opened the back door. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey.” He stood on the curb, glowering at the back passenger seat.

The booster.

She knew he hated it. She'd been the one he'd come running to when Tom had brought them home (one for her car, one for his). He'd pleaded, begged, lamented animatedly about the great injustice and indignity of it. He was invulnerable, he shouldn't have to follow rules meant for human children. He hadn't liked it at all when she pointed out that he wasn't invincible, and that maybe Tom had a point. He'd stormed up to his room, hollering that they were “the absolute _**worst**_ ” before pulling the ladder up with such force that it rattled the light fixtures.

They had exchanged wan smiles and comments like 'You feel like a parent yet?' and consoled themselves with the fact that they were doing their best and that he would come around.

And he did come around – sort of – later that night, after skipping dinner.

 _“_ _Did we finish the last season of 'Man in the High Castle'?” Tom asked, remote in hand._

_Beside him on the couch, Maddie tucked her feet up on the cushions. “Yeah I think so.”_

_“Ok...what did we want to start ne–” A rush of air and a blur of blue in his peripheral vision stopped him mid-sentence and they both turned. From the kitchen, they could hear the fridge being pulled open. He moved to stand, but she put a hand on his arm._

_A moment later, the blur zipped past them again. Tom craned his neck, and Maddie squeezed his arm. “Maybe he's not ready to–” she'd started, but then the blur reappeared, solidifying in the doorway as a sullen-looking teenager._

_“What're you guys watching?” he asked, eyes on the TV instead of on them._

_“Hadn't decided yet.” Tom patted the spot next to him on the couch. “Any requests?”_

_The boy didn't move, or at least not forward. He fidgeted in place, muttering to himself (with himself) before saying quietly, “I think Netflix was s'posed to have a new Pokemon movie or something...”_

_Maddie leaned forward, smiled when she managed to catch his eye. “That sounds good to me.”_

_He slowly shuffled into the living room, moving around the coffee table to climb up on Maddie's side of the couch. As she shifted, letting him snuggle up against her, she caught Tom's poorly-hidden frown out of the corner of her eye. A little pang of pain twinged in her chest._ _She brushed her fingers against his leg as on the other side of her Sonic was pushing his head into her hand, signaling what he wanted. She obliged, rubbing his ears and taking the opportunity to speak up while Tom queued up the movie. “We're not trying to 'ruin your life', you know.”_

_Sonic's muzzle flushed pink, but he didn't pull away. “Yeah, I know,” he mumbled._

_They didn't speak much more during the movie, only occasionally when something on screen didn't make sense and the teen had to explain it (which truthfully left the adults even more confused)._

And that was where they'd left this particular subject. Him not liking it but putting up with it anyway. He heaved his backpack in first and stepped in after it, pulling the door shut before climbing up and buckling himself in. Then he propped his elbow on the armrest and let his chin fall into his hand. “All set, Pretzel Lady.”

She started the engine and made her way out of the parking lot. “How, um, how was school?”

“Fine.”

_'Damn it.'_ She'd been a teenager (ages ago, it seemed). She knew what 'fine' meant. 'Fine' meant no amount of fresh air was going to make this boy smile today. They wound their way through town in silence – or at least _near-_ silence. Halfway home she could hear him whispering to himself. It was a habit, one born of years spent alone with no one but himself to talk to. When he'd first moved in it had been a bit jarring. They'd kept responding to questions not meant for them and she'd noticed he'd taken to lowering his volume when he did it. He couldn't stop – not yet anyway – but he was making an effort to be less obvious about it. So she tried to ignore it, most of the time. Alone in the car though, it was hard.

The word 'stupid' – hissed like venom – caught her attention as they pulled into the driveway and she frowned. “Who's stupid?”

His head snapped up, like he'd forgotten where he was, and he scowled. “I wasn't talking to you,” he snapped. In a blur of motion he was out of the car, up the side of the house and into his room through the skylight.

Maddie put the car in park, sighing. As she reached over to grab her purse from the passenger seat, she spotted his backpack still on the floor behind her. She pulled it into the front seat by one strap and noticed the front pocket was only half closed. There was a white envelope sticking out, which, on closer inspection was addressed to 'Mr. & Mrs. Wachowski'. “Uh oh.” She tore it open and unfolded the single sheet inside, scanning it quickly as realization dawned and her face fell. “Damn it.”

* * *

The knock on his door was entirely expected but Sonic still cringed. Lying on his stomach on his bed, he spoke into his pillow. “G'way!”

The stairs creaked and the footsteps echoed and Maddie's voice replied, “Yeah, that's not gonna happen.”

He didn't – couldn't - look at her. He knew she'd found it. She had to have found it. Why else would she have come up here? Usually when he needed time to cool off about something they gave him his space, but if she'd found it, if she knew... His eyes burned and he pressed his face further into the pillow, hoping against hope that she'd just give up and leave him alone.

Instead, “Sonic...”

He groaned, raised his head up just enough so he could glare bleary-eyed at the headboard. “Ya wanna know who's stupid, Maddie? ... _ **Me**_.” His voice cracked as he said it, just to add insult to injury.

“I don't want to hear you say that again.”

“Why not?” The words were like acid in his mouth. “You've got the proof right there in your hand.”

She came up beside the bed. “Can I sit?”

“You sure you want to? Some of the stupid might rub off.”

She sat. “I said knock it off with that.” She held out the piece of paper and he flinched away from it. “All I've got here is a letter that says–”

He sprang up, snatched it away from her. “Remedial Math, Maddie. They wanna put me in _Remedial_ Math. That's code for stu–”

“Hey!” It was her turn to snap and it took him by enough surprise that he fell back on his tail on the bed. “Say that word one more time and so help me...” She stopped, closed her eyes and started to breath, long and deep. He sat, waiting, wet eyes wide and heart pounding. He'd never seen her mad before, not like this. What was she even mad about? He thought she would've been mad about his being, you know...a failure. But that didn't seem to be it. When she opened her eyes again the fire had gone out but he found he couldn't relax. “I'm sorry.”

“What for?” His fist clenched around the letter. “You're not the one who–”

Before he could finish his sentence, she was gathering him up in her arms, pulling him in tight. Stunned, he didn't even think to try pulling away, arms limp at his sides, the letter still tight in one hand. His face was pressed against her sweater and her scent – lavender soap and mountain air – surrounded him. He could feel her heartbeat against his cheek, her breath on his ears. Then something soft and warm pressed against the top of his head and it took him a minute to figure out what she was doing.

Kissing him.

Over and over she kissed him between the ears – a sensation so new and foreign and wonderful and _he didn't deserve it._ The world went blurry around the edges and he let the crumpled paper fall to the bed, lifting shaking hands up to clutch at her shirt. He opened his mouth but only a whimper came out so he clamped it shut again.

One of her hands went to his quills, stroking gently, and the mouth still so close to his fur whispered, “It's ok, baby. It's ok.”

His heart lurched so forcefully he thought it might come up his throat. He should've been mad – he kind of wanted to be. He wasn't a baby, but then again here he was bawling in her arms, so maybe he was. What was it about her that made it so easy to cry? He never used to. After the first few days on earth he'd made a concerted effort not to. Ten years of hard work building up the walls and all this woman had to do was hug him and kiss him – something no one had ever done _ever_ _ **before**_ _ **ever**_ – and it all came tumbling down. He really _was_ a baby.

 _Her_ baby.

The thought was so startling he actually gasped. It came out more like a shaky, hiccuping sob and she tightened her grip, kissed him again. God, that felt nice. The swirling cyclone of horrible things he'd been thinking about himself all day suddenly collided with this new perplexing information and his stomach did a flip inside of him.

He was her baby. Which meant she was his...his...

“Mo–” he choked out, hiding his face in her now-soaked sweater. “M-Mo–” The word caught in his throat.

“Shh shh shh.” Her soothing voice washed over him. “You're ok.”

But was he? He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could. “M'sorry.”

“Don't you dare be sorry.” Her tone was gentle but firm. “There's no reason for it.”

Then she was shifting them both, pulling him into her lap and he let her, content to be cradled while he worked to get his breathing back in sync with hers. With a sniff, he swiped at his nose with the back on his glove, not knowing what to say next.

She saved him the trouble, asking quietly. “Hey...who taught you to read?”

“Huh?”

“Who taught you to read?”

“Nobody.” He shrugged. “I hung out outside the elementary school windows a lot.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the little camp-TV set they'd brought up from his cave. “Sesame Street helped.”

“You taught yourself to read. And write.”

“I guess.”

“Does that sound like somebody who's stupid to you?”

He blinked at his shoes. “Well, n-no I guess not, but the letter–”

“The letter says your teacher thinks you could use some extra help. Because you probably could.” She resumed stroking his quills. “Sonic, you've only been in school for a month. Every other kid has been doing it for eight years. And I'm going to guess that you won't be alone in that new math class. Because not everyone is great at everything.”

He snorted. “I used to be.”

Her hand found his cheek, tilted his face up towards hers. “ _You_ are absolutely amazing. But _no_ one is perfect. So please, don't try to be.”

“That's ok?”

“More than ok.”

She leaned down just enough to plant a kiss on his nose and even as he blushed and squirmed and groaned (“C'maaaan...”) his heart swelled.

“Feeling better enough to be embarrassed now, hmm?”

He failed to fight a smile and nodded. “Thanks...” _'Mom! Mom! Mom!' “..._ Maddie.” _'Coward.'_

“Anytime, kiddo.” She gave him another squeeze and he let her, in no hurry to be out of her lap. “So...I'm gonna take a wild guess that homework isn't what you want to be doing right now...” He made a face and she laughed. “How about we get some fresh air? Ozzie needs a walk. And I think we forgot about your after school snack. I've got guac in the fridge.”

“Snack and then walk?”

“You got it.”

He slipped his arms around her neck – this hugging thing was really the bees' knees – and squeezed before hopping back to the floor. “I'm actually kinda looking forward to my English homework,” he said as he moved towards the stairs.  
“Yeah?” She followed after him, smiling.

“Yeah! We just started reading 'The Outsiders'!”

“Oh! That's a classic! You know they made a movie of it.”

“They did?”

“When you finish the book, we could find it to watch.”

“Cool, sure!” With a spring in his step, he led her back downstairs. In the back of his brain, the word 'mom' tumbled around, one more big word to mull over later. For now, though, for now there was guac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's reading and leaving kudos or comments! You all are making my day! I think I might actually finish this thing sooner than expected, mostly due to being stuck at home for the next week or more. Silver lining of the social distancing and school closures, I guess! Hope everyone is doing well and staying sane!
> 
> 3/23/20 - Now with @thebigpalooka's AMAZING immustrations!


	4. The Fourth Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tom drives Sonic to school.

**The Fourth Time**

“C'mon slow poke, put today on it!” Sonic called, using a phrase he'd picked up from Maddie that made Tom grin as he hunched over on the bed, tying his work shoes. But instead of hurrying, he took his time, getting the loops in his laces perfectly even before crossing them. He could hear the hedgehog zipping back and forth down the hall (wearing a new groove in the hardwood, no doubt), knew the teen was peeking in the bedroom door, watching him in even slower motion than he was actually moving. At last, the blue blur came into focus in the door frame, one red shoe tapping against the wood floor. “You're trying to kill me. Is that it? Because it's working.”

Tom made sure his double knot was secure and then stood, rolling his shoulders. “Have we ever been late? Besides for orientation 'cause you chickened out and ran off?”

Sonic's foot stopped tapping, stomping down as he drew himself up to his full three-foot-four-inches. “I did _not_ chicken out. I simply had other pressing matters to attend to that day.” Tom raised an eyebrow and Sonic's defiant expression melted into a pout. “Like having a mild panic attack.”

The sheriff's teasing expression melted into something more sympathetic. They could joke about it now (sort of), but it hadn't been funny at the time. What had begun as a morning marked by nervous excitement had turned into an all-hands-on-deck hedgehog hunt by 10 AM. When he'd gotten the call from Wade at noon about people seeing blue sparks flying at the baseball field, he'd actually put the sirens on and run the couple of red lights between him and his boy.

 _No reports of any power surges or outages_ _had been filed_ _, but the call had been right. From the parking lot he_ _'d_ _clearly see_ _n_ _the sporadic bolts of blue electricity shooting up from under the bleachers. He had to remind himself to approach slowly, making his footsteps as loud as possible through the dirt. “Sonic? Buddy? You in there?”_

_A yelp sounded, followed by a stammering, “S-s-s-stay back!”_

_Tom came to a stop, a few feet away, squinting through his sunglasses at the shadowed, glowing form hiding under the stands. Not fully curled into a ball, but sitting in the dirt, hugging his knees, rocking back and forth. “I'm not going anywhere,” he called. “Just gonna stand right here, ok?”_

_Another_ _squeak and a crackle of electricity. “I don't wanna hurt you! You should just – you should go.”_

_“If you think I'm leaving you here alone, you're sparkin' up the wrong tree, pal.”_

_A gasp – almost a laugh – and the glow faded slightly. “That's_ _**terrible** _ _. You're terrible.”_

_Tom shrugged, relief flooding his chest. “I liked it.” Puns to the rescue. “Can I come in?”_

_“Uh...yeah, I guess so.”_

_The sheriff made his way around to the side of the bleachers, crouching down as he stepped carefully underneath. In the darkened space he took off his aviators, hung them from his shirt collar, and let his eyes adjust._

_Sonic was tucked under the lowest bench, still hugging his knees, eyes downcast. “Give it to me straight, Donut Lord – how much trouble am I in?”_

_“Hmmm.” Tom sat back on his haunches, elbows resting on his knees. “Truancy, public disturbance, scaring the crap out of Maddie and me...I'd say five months jail time. But with good behavior, overcrowding, that's really more like two months, tops.” The boy raised his head up, horror-struck, and Tom stifled a laugh. “Jesus, kid,_ _your face._ _I'm joking.”_

_Sonic's brow furrowed, a few errant sparks climbing across his quills. “S'not funny.”_

_“Bad time to joke, fair, fair.” Tom raised a hand up in surrender. “_ _Serious time then?”_

_A nod. “Please.”_

_“You're not in any trouble. But I_ _**would** _ _like to know what all this is about.”_

_The teen tried to smirk. “What? The uncontrollable electricity? Totally normal space hedgehog stuff. Probably puberty or something.”_

_“Thought we were being serious, Sonic.”_

_The smirk faded, blue shoulders slumped. “Right.”_

_Tom shifted into a more comfortable position, not minding the dirt on his khakis as he sat down. “This whole weekend all you could talk about was school – we thought you were excited for this. Then we pull into the parking lot and...” He snapped his fingers. “You were gone. Nobody knew where – and knowing you, it could've been all the way to Mexico.” His voice softened, his eyes suddenly tired. “You really scared us.”_

_Sonic let one hand fall to his side, drawing circles in the dirt with his index finger. “Didn't mean to.”_

_Tom searched the boy's face. “_ _So what happened?”_

 _“I...I dunno...” Sonic started, then shook his head. “That's a lie. I should stop lying. I'm awful at it. I_ _**was** _ _excited about school. I've only been watching the other kids go for, like, my whole life. But that's the thing, right? I've been watching the other kids – like some creepy stalker – for years! I don't know all their names but I know some! I know which ones play baseball and which ones are in the band and which ones hang out by the bike racks and try out curse words and-and-and I shouldn't know all that stuff! The new kid isn't supposed to already have the building layout memorized because he kinda-sorta-maybe broke in a couple times to run around and check out the science fair projects. If I go in there and start talking, they're_ _**all** _ _going to know and, like, think I'm a freak, right? As if being a blue anthropomorphic alien animal wasn't bad enough! But a blue anthropomorphic alien animal AND a STALKER?? No. Nope. Bad idea. You guys can just home-school me. You've got time for that, right?”_

 _Tom could only blink for a moment before exhaling heavily. “Ok, a lot to unpack there. Putting aside the breaking-and-entering for now...” Sonic laughed nervously. “While your particular circumstances are very uniquely_ _**you** _ _...you're not the first kid to worry about fitting in.”_

 _“_ _W-well, I mean, yeah, but–”_

 _“_ _Now, will it be awkward sometimes? Probably. But it's awkward with us sometimes, and that's not so bad, right?”_

_He watched Sonic fight a smile, and then the teen crawled over to sit next to him. “It's kinda bad.”_

__

_Tom raised an arm up, checked quickly for any hint of a spark coming from the blue quills, and then cautiously brought the arm down around the boy's shoulders. Sonic stiffened, briefly, and then relaxed, leaning against the human's side without a word. Tom took a moment to collect himself, quiet his pounding heart, log this away to gush about to Maddie at bedtime. When he spoke again, he was proud of how casual he was able to keep his tone. “_ _You've been watching from the sidelines for a_ _**long** _ _time, kid. I think it's high time you 'got in the game', so to speak. Don't you?”_

_Sonic sighed. “I guess. But it's gonna be hard...”_

_“The good things sometimes are.” Tom gazed down at the boy who'd turned his life upside-down in the best possible way. “But that just makes it more worth the effort.”_

_“You promise?”_

_“I promise.”_

So far they'd both been right. It had been hard, a serious adjustment in a short amount of time that had already seen its share of serious adjustments. But it had also been good, as evidenced by the way they could already look back on that moment with a bit of perspective, a sense of humor. Tom reached out a hand and ruffled the fur atop the boy's head, got a jolt of serotonin when he didn't pull away. “Just keepin' ya humble, kid,” he said. As he retracted his hand, he gave one ear a quick rub.

Sonic's muzzle flushed pink and he darted away, returning a millisecond later more composed, backpack slung over one shoulder. “Hard to be humble when you're this awesome. Now for real, let's go before I decide to run to school instead of giving you the honor of chauffeuring me.”

“Oh, forgive me, your Awesomeness. What would I do without you kicking the back of my seat for ten blocks?”

“Go back to talking to donuts?”

“Fair.”

* * *

Not kicking the seat out of habit was hard enough. Not kicking on purpose because Tom had made a point of mentioning it? Damn near impossible. It wasn't really Sonic's fault. His feet dangled off the booster seat and it got uncomfortable really fast. Whoever had invented these dignity-destroying devices had apparently never been a kid, or they would've thought to include a footrest or something.

He tried to sit criss-cross-applesauce, but his knees hit the armrests, knocking the days-old empty juice box out of the cup holder.It fell to the car floor, joining the menagerie of miscellany that had collected there in the scant month he'd spent occupying this space. Chin in one hand, he glanced around the backseat.

He hadn't meant to make such a mess. In all honesty, he couldn't even remember having made it. It had just sort of...happened. Car rides were boring, so if they were going somewhere further than school or the grocery store, he usually brought something along to keep busy. And then those things just...tended to stay in the car. So the rest of the bench seat beside him was littered with comic books and magazines, a handheld electronic game that they'd found at a neighbor's yard sale. The floor...well, Maddie had called it a 'health hazard', but snack trash had to go somewhere, right? Each time he looked at it all, he wanted to clean it up, but by the time they got wherever they were going he'd forgotten. So it just...collected.

It was weird. Like a mini-version of his room. But at least his room had a door he could close. He didn't leave stuff around the house if he could help it. He knew he could be careless, but he made a conscious effort to be a good house guest. _“It's your house too.”_ They'd said that more than once, but that wasn't right. It was their house; he was just living in it. Just like this was Tom's ~~loser cruiser~~ van and he was just a passenger.

A messy passenger.

Whose legs were starting to cramp.

He let out a huff, leaned in towards the center of the van. “I still hate this, by the way.”

“Noted.”

He frowned. Sometimes the man was too unflappable for his own good. “How long do I have to use this thing anyway?”

“By law, until you're four-foot-nine.”

Sonic straightened up in his seat so forcefully that the seatbelt locked shut on him. “What?!”

“I don't write the rules, buddy.”

“But-but-but but I don't know if I'll _ever_ –”

“Take it easy, kid.” Through the rear-view mirror they made eye-contact briefly. “I'll make you a deal. If you're not that tall by the time you're eighteen, we'll come up with a different solution.”

“Sixteen.”

“Seventeen.”

Sonic inhaled sharply, chest straining against the still-taut seatbelt. He let the air out through his nose and muttered, “Fine.” He slumped back, folding his arms and pressing the soles of his sneakers up against the back of the driver's seat. “God, you guys suck.”

The car slowed to a stop at a red light, and to his dismay, the human twisted around, raising his sunglasses to fix the hedgehog with a hard stare. “You _do_ know it hurts when you say that stuff, right?”

Sonic's face flared so hot so fast he thought the tips of his ears might've been smoking. His first instinct was to bolt, and the seatbelt suddenly felt like a straight jacket. _'Crap. Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap.'_

Was this it?

The end?

How many times could he shoot his mouth off before they decided they'd had enough?

How many times had it been?

He couldn't remember and that was probably a bad sign.

The blood was pulsing in his ears and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

The light turned green and the car behind them tapped on the horn and Tom turned back to the road. A dawning feeling of pain in his biceps made Sonic glance down. His claws had come out. They hadn't broken through his gloves (they never did), but they were jabbing him through the fabric and he had to make a conscious effort to retract them. The blood that had rushed to his face, however, didn't seem to want to go anywhere. His stomach was clenching uncomfortably. How could a simple sentence send him so quickly into 'fight or flight' mode? A tiny bubble of petulant anger (at who he didn't know) got his mouth moving again. “Way to put a guy on the spot...”

“If you don't want people calling you out when you're being a jerk, then you probably picked the wrong family.”

Sonic stared at the back of the driver's seat headrest, chewing his bottom lip. Tom didn't sound mad anymore. He actually hadn't really sounded mad at all in the first place. Sonic couldn't quite place tone – but it was one that usually showed up when the human went into 'explainer of the world' mode. Sonic had heard it enough times to recognize that much, but what it meant...that was still a mystery. But not mad at least. And he was using that big, heavy word again. Weird. But good weird, if the unclenching of his stomach was any indication. “That's...that's something families do...?” he asked quietly.

“The good ones, anyway. If they didn't, then what's the point, right? Just a bunch of people in a house being jerks.”

The teen let out a short sigh. “Yeah, that sounds pretty awful.” His feet dropped down, heels tapping against the upholstery. “What happens next?”

“Hmm?”  
“What does the jerk do? After getting called out?”

“Apologies are always nice, if they're sincere.” Tom slowed as he joined the drop-off line in front of the school. “Cause usually the jerk didn't _mean_ to be a jerk. He was just frustrated and not really thinking about what they were saying. Right?”

“Uh...r-right, yeah.” Sonic gripped his knees. Through the windshield, the school loomed large. He didn't have much time. “I, um, I didn't mean to – you guys don't really su – no, that's terrible, of course they don't suck, you don't have to tell him that.” He glared at his shoes. Talking to himself was something he was trying to quash, but when he got worked up it was that much harder. “Shut up! I'm trying to – I _know!_ Just get on with it before–”

The car came to a stop.

 _'Crap.'_ Sonic unbuckled his seatbelt and hurled himself towards the driver's seat, wrapping his arms around both the headrest and Tom's neck. “I'msorryIwasajerkit'skindamydefaultsettingsometimesIdon'tknowwhatI'mdoingthankssomuchforlettingmelivewithyouguysyou'reseriouslythebest,” came out all in one breath. Chest pounding, face burning, he dropped down to the floor and grabbed his backpack. With two hands he yanked the door open and hopped out onto the sidewalk.

“Hey.”

He cringed. Maybe that wasn't right. Would he get a do-over? Slowly, he twisted back towards the van, surprised and relieved to see Tom smiling as he leaned one arm out the window. “Y-yeah?”

“That was a pretty good one. You're not as bad at this as you think.”

Sonic shifted his backpack straps, trying not to think about any of the other kids filing past him on the pavement. “Whatever.”

The human chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Have fun at school today. Try not to cry too much.”

“Pft,” the teen scoffed, smirking. “Yeah, alright Daaaaaaaa _aaaaaaaaaaaaa_ _ **aaaaaaaaaaaaa**_ onut Lord.” The smile dropped, pure terror in its place as a silence stretched out infinitely between the sidewalk and the van. And then time caught up with him again and he was speaking without breathing. “ItotallysaidDonutLordandanyotherwordyourheardwas100% **notwhatIjustsaid**.” He spun away from the vehicle, mentally kicking himself as he felt the blood rush back to his face and his claws push uselessly against his backpack straps. Without permission, his mouth kept running, making everything worse. “So just – whatever word you're thinking I just said that _isn't_ Donut Lord, well, then, you're soooo wrong! Cause I would _never_ accidentally say anything other than–”

“Ok, son...”

Tom's voice stopped him and he blinked. What? He had too much blood in his ears, he couldn't possibly have heard– Cautiously, sweat matting the fur to his temple, he turned back around. “Did...” His voice caught in his throat and he had to clear it. “Did you just say...”

“...ic.”

The sheriff was smiling, facing forward but watching him out of the corner of his eye. He shrugged. “I said 'Sonic'.” He put the van back into 'drive' and offered a salute as he started to pull away from the curb. “See ya for dinner.”

The hedgehog was left standing on the sidewalk, blinking, watching the van roll out of the parking lot. School hadn't even started yet and it seemed like he'd _felt_ enough for three days. Chest aching, stomach churning, a tiny, tiny smile tugged at his cheeks. “...Jerklord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who's reading and leaving kudos and comments, you all are making my days SO much brighter! 
> 
> Second of all, if the end of this chapter seems familiar, that's because it's based off of [this](https://enigmaticallyartful.tumblr.com/post/611429269883764736/this-is-cringelooks-bleh-and-im-sorry-but-i)  
> I reached out and asked if I could adapt it because it's amazing and it fit so well with what I've been doing with this fic and I'm so thrilled and honored she said 'yes'! So, @enigmaticallyartful I hope this does your wonderful art justice!
> 
> Third of all, speaking of AMAZING artists, check [this](https://thebigpalooka.tumblr.com/post/613244381255892992/so-you-guys-know-by-now-that-i-am-entirely-all) out!  
> I still can't believe this exists, you guys. It's stunning. I'm stunned. My heart is SO full.
> 
> So yeah, that's it for now! Two more chapters to go. I hope I can keep up this pace!
> 
> 3/23/20 - Now with @thebigpalooka's AMAZING immustrations!
> 
> 3/25/20 - Now with proper thanks to Humanities_Handbag for helping make this chapter the best that it could be!


	5. The Fifth Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sonic stumbles across Tom's guitar.

**The Fifth Time**

He'd forgotten about Tom's guitar.

Years ago, from afar, Sonic had watched him sit on the back deck, strumming and singing while Maddie handed out appetizers to their friends. He'd seen humans make music on TV plenty, but something about hearing it live just felt so much more...special. At eight years old, he was still pretty dodgey about getting too close to the humans. But that night he'd sat just at the edge of the woods, enthralled, until the party was over and the humans who were quickly becoming his favorites went to bed.

It had become a favorite Friday night activity for a year or two, until the number of friends showing up started to dwindle and then parties on the deck were replaced with game nights, which were then replaced (when the remaining friends stopped coming altogether) with movie nights alone.

And in the excitement of All-Things-Keanu, he'd forgotten about the guitar.

Until 3:35 PM on a Tuesday.

It was raining, the kind of cold, miserable rain only November could pull off, and the plans they'd made to go watch the high school football team practice were ruined. Maddie had suggested yoga, and homework, both of which he'd vetoed, but as she put the kettle on to make cocoa, she got another idea.

“I'm pretty sure Tom has an old NES in his closet in our bedroom. How 'bout that?”

“An-Ee-What?” He quirked an eye-ridge.

“You know, Nintendo – video games?”

“Oh! Oh, wow, really??” Socked feet already itching to take off, he jogged in place beside her.

“Yeah, I distinctly recall him forbidding me from selling it at the last rummage sale,” she said, tapping her chin. “It should be in the back of the closet in an old shoe box. Why don't you go take a look?”

“That's ok? I mean, I'm allowed to –”

One hand reached out and rubbed his ears, stopping him mid-sentence. “Yes, I'm telling you it's ok to go dig around in the closet. Better that than trust you to man the stove.”

He smirked. “Good call.” He was gone before she could blink.

He hesitated in the doorway to the master bedroom. Even with permission, it still felt strange. The room was dark, but on sunny days light poured in from French doors that led out to the deck (hide-and-seek was a lot of fun when you put that deck into play – you could start in one direction and then work your way around to an entirely different part of the house from the outside). He hopped up and hit the light switch, and the ceiling fan fixture blinked on.

The bed was big – much bigger than his – and neatly made – again, the opposite of his. It was easy to tell whose side was whose by the nightstands. They were identical, with matching table lamps, but one was home to a smörgåsbord of lotion bottles and magazines while the other sported a ringed coffee cup stain and a Tom Clancy novel. And given that there was a single-door closet on either side of the bed as well, deducing which was the one that held the sought after vintage video game system was a snap.

Yet still he hesitated, rocking back and forth on his heels. This was their room – _theirs._ The other rooms in the house were for everyone but this...this was for them. And Ozzie, the adorable jerk. He'd stood in this spot before – maybe a dozen times. In the middle of the night, when a particularly vivid dream had woken him up. At the crack of dawn when he'd been itching to take a run but couldn't leave without telling them first. But he'd never gone in. Each time his knuckles neared the painted wood he froze up, retreated. What if they didn't want to be woken up? They both had important jobs, people and animals that depended on them. They needed their sleep. He was a big kid – a teenager – practically grown. He could handle bad dreams. He could wait until their alarm went off to go for a run.

He could go into this room.

“Just...go get the video games,” he told himself. “Go in Donut Lord's closet, where he keeps all of his...his Donut Lord stuff and get it. Easy. Totally.”

One foot rose up and then his whole body pivoted and he began pacing in the hall. “She said you were allowed, this isn't a big deal. Yes it is! It's _their_ room full of _their_ stuff and what if you break something? C'mon, when have you ever broken anything? Last Thursday. But it was ok! Remember? No big deal, they said. Maybe they were just saying that cuz you started to get all sparky on 'em and they didn't want anything to catch fire. No – no. Accidents happen, they said. They break stuff. Ozzie breaks stuff. We all just, just try to be careful and clean up the mess afterwards. It's ok. You can do this.”

He forced himself to stop pacing and face the room again.

Took a big yoga breath.

Let it out slowly.

Stepped into the room.

The world did not end.

“Right. Ok.”

The closet that corresponded with the coffee-stained nightstand was more-or-less what he'd imagined it would be. Sheriff's uniforms all pressed and on hangers next to plaid flannel shirts in every possible color. The shelf above the hanger bar had a motorcycle helmet that he logged in the back of his brain to ask about later, and a pile of what-looked-like photo albums. The floor was a cluttered mess of shoes, plastic bags filled with miscellany (old USB cables?) and boxes. “Shoe box, shoe box...which one is it?” On hands and knees, he poked around.

The smell of cut grass and shoe leather and sugar wrinkled his nose. “What in the world...?” he mumbled, before it clicked. Donut Lord. The closet smelled like him. Because of course it did. Duh. He let out a tiny huff, shaking his head even as a warm feeling settled in his stomach. It went back deeper than he'd expected and he was almost completely inside before his search led him to a box with 'N-E-S Maddie, Don't Touch!' scrawled across the side in sharpie.

“Ha-HA! Yes!” With one hand he yanked it forward...and something big and black that had apparently been held in place only by this particular box lurched towards him as well. “Nononononono!” Reflexes working exactly as they should, he shot both hands up and caught the...whatever it was. It was heavy, and oddly shaped and out of curiosity he tapped his knuckles against it. It sounded half-hollow. Was that a thing? “Hiding a baby vampire in here, Donut Lord?”

Carefully, he eased the object down to the floor, scooted back with it towards the light so he could get a better look. It was a container – it had hinges and latches and no lock. On curious-teen-autopilot, he opened it.

The moment the light hit the polished wood, he froze.

“Oh.”

All at once he was eight-years-old again, watching from the tree line, creeping under the deck to hear better. He could hear it now, so clear he wondered how he could've forgotten.

_“No, you don't tug on Superman's cape,_

_You don't spit into the wind,_

_You don't pull the mask off that ol' Lone Ranger_

_And you don't mess around with Jim.”_

__

The case was dusty. Had to have been tucked away in that closet for, what, three, four years? Stomach clenching, he wondered why. Even from his hidden vantage point, playing this instrument had always seemed to be such a joyful thing. The smiles, the laughter, it was all as vivid in his mind as if it had been days ago instead of years. So what had happened?

He let a hand rest on top of the strings.

“Hey, everything ok in he– oh! Wow!”

At the sound of Maddie's voice he scrambled to his feet, ears flat against his head. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It kinda almost fell on me but I shouldn't've opened it and–”

But she just kept coming towards him, dropping to her knees on the floor beside the bed. “Are you ok?”

“Huh?”

“When it fell.” Her hands were on him, tilting his head up, to one side then the other. “Did it hit you?”

“What? Oh, n-no, no, I'm ok.” He pulled out of her grasp, muzzle hot.

She sat back on her heels. “Good.” Her eyes stayed on him a moment longer and he turned his own gaze away, back to the guitar. She must've followed suit, because she ran a hand lovingly over the guitar. “I forgot he had this in the closet.”

“You forgot too...?” Sonic hung back, watching.

“Hmm? I mean, I didn't forget he _had_ it, I just hadn't thought about it in a while.” She snatched the tissue box off of the nightstand and began wiping the dust off the case. “Wait – you knew about this?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He nodded, feeling comfortable enough to sit back down beside her. “When I was little I use to come listen to him play.” Her expression changed to one he was starting to recognize and dislike – pity. It was why he avoided talking about his life in the woods as much as possible. That 'poor Sonic' face the both of them made whenever he let something slip was unbearable. Eager to move beyond it, he asked, “So how come he doesn't anymore?”

“Hmm?”

“Doesn't play?”

“Oh, I don't know...lack of an audience, I guess? When we first started dating he played for me _all_ the time. Cheesy? Heck yes, but I loved it. Before all our friends started having babies and getting too busy, he used to hold court out on the deck and play for hours. He played at our wedding, at Jojo's baptism, at my graduation party. Any opportunity he had to make me cry, he went for it.”

The hedgehog shifted in his seat, crossing his legs and gripping his ankles. “He made you cry? He never sounded off-pitch to me.”

Laughter bubbled up as Maddie shook her head. “Happy tears, Sonic.”

“I don't follow.”

“People cry for all kinds of reasons,” she told him, in that matter-of-fact, here's-how-the-world-works way of hers. “When they're sad, of course, but also when they're angry, or hurt. Or, in my case, when they're filled to the brim with happiness because their cheeseball husband decided to sing Jim Croce as his wedding toast.”

He liked talking about crying just about as much as he liked actually doing it, so he asked, “Jim Who?”

“Oh, don't let Tom hear you say you don't know who Jim Croce is.” She wagged a finger at him and then closed the guitar case. “Now – if you actually want me to get that game system up and running before dinner, we'd better get started.”

“Right! Yes!” He hopped to his feet. “Let's do it.”

Maddie tucked the guitar case back into the closet and the afternoon passed uneventfully. It was easy to get distracted when you had to guide a tiny plumber through a terrible mushroom world full of weirdly hostile turtles.

But then at dinner...

Tom asked what they'd done that day.

Maddie brought up the video game and that got Tom reminiscing about after school marathon sessions trying to rescue the princess from the turtle king. “Think I was just a little younger than you are,” he said, pointing at Sonic with a forkful of mashed potatoes.

The teen blinked, trying to picture it. Freaky. “And it still runs? Dang...”

“Yeah, they don't make 'em like that anymore.”

Sonic shrugged, poked at his own plate. “We found your guitar too.” Casual. Just a passing observation. Not at all something that was making his stomach twist in uncomfortable ways.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded, speared a piece of broccoli with his fork. “Maybe if Pretzel Lady's sister ever decides to talk to you again and come visit, maybe you could play it. Cuz it was for family stuff.”

The humans exchanged a glance across the table but he didn't notice. His eyes stayed on his plate until he declared himself full and asked to be excused (which was still strange, but neither here nor there).

“Sure kiddo.”

“We'll call you later for dessert.”

He was up to his room in less than a second, pulling the stairs closed behind him. He had homework to do and he almost made it to his desk before veering to the left and flopping into the beanbag chair instead. His fingers brushed against the paddle-ball on the floor and on autopilot he grabbed it up. “Idiot. Why'd you go and say that? If Donut Lord wanted to play the guitar again, he do it. You shouldn't be buggin' him about stuff like that.”

Paddle...Paddle...Paddle...went the ball.

The rain pelted the glass of the skylight, nothing but black beyond and he was grateful for the string lights in the rafters. “They do _so_ much for you already.”

Paddle. Paddle. Paddle.

“Yeah, the carseat blows chunks, and yeah, having to tell them when you wanna go for a run is a drag, but so what?”

PaddlePaddlePaddle.

“You get home-cooked meals and movie-nights and regular baths and someone to talk to other than yourself and–”

_**PaddlePaddlePaddle.** _

“Exactly! You should be happy!”

_**PaddlePaddlePaddle.** _

“I _am!_ So what more do you want?!”

_**PADDLEPADDLEPADDLE.** _

“ _I don't know!_ ”

The string on the paddle-ball chose that moment to snap and the ball went ricocheting across the room, knocking several books down from a shelf, and bumping a poster askew before sailing towards Tom's head as it appeared at the top of the ladder. “Whoa!” The sheriff ducked.

“OhmygoshI'msosorry!” Stomach icy, ears flat, he bolted upright. So caught up in an argument with himself, he hadn't even heard the stairs open.

“Geez, kid. I knew something was off, but I wasn't expecting booby traps.” With a grin, Tom put one hand on the floor to pull himself up and into the room.

Jokes. Ok. He wasn't in trouble. How loud had he been? How much had Donut Lord overheard? Tamping down that thought for the moment, Sonic stood, brandishing the ball-less paddle. “Apparently tourist-trap gift-shop toys aren't built to last.”

“Well I, for one, am shocked.” Tom chuckled. “S'all good. I've got something more fun for us to play with.” He raised his other arm, the neck of the guitar clutched in his hand.

The paddle clattered to the floor. “I – you – you didn't have to –”

“I know I didn't.” Tom set the instrument down gently and then hoisted himself up so he was sitting on the attic floor. “But I wanted to. Maddie said you remember this?”

Fists clenched at his sides, the hedgehog nodded.

“What about it do you remember?”

Crap. He'd already gotten the pity-face from Maddie today, did he really have to get it from Tom too? “I dunno,” he lied, shuffling his feet.

Tom merely shrugged and got to his feet, guitar in hand as he crossed the room to go sit at the desk chair. Silently, he tweaked one of the tuning pegs, plucked a string, then twisted the peg again.

Sonic watched him, feeling that same pull he'd felt back at the edge of the woods. He moved slowly closer. “I remember you used to sit out on the deck, with this big group of people around, playing until the firepit went dark.”

“That was probably right after we bought the house.” Tom kept his eyes on his instrument, plucking and twisting, so if he was making any sort of face, Sonic couldn't see it. He wondered if that was on purpose. “This place was _the_ premiere nightlife hot spot back then.”

The teen felt a smirk tug at his cheeks. “I remember it looked like fun. People would request songs and you'd just...know them.”

“Any in particular you remember?”

“Something about Superman and the Lone Ranger?”

Tom rearranged his fingers on the guitar and started strumming a deep, halting beat that Sonic instantly recognized. “You mean this?”

Nodding, Sonic found a seat on his bed, a smile blooming across his face.

Tom hit a sour note, stopped, twisted another peg. “Hang on.” He gave the chord another strum. “Ok, there we go.” He got the rhythm going again, cleared his throat, and then, “Uptown's got it's hustlers...the bowery's got it's bums...Forty-Second Street got Big Jim Walker, he's a pool shootin' son of a gun...”

Sonic watched, fingers tapping on the side of the bed. Something warm settled in his stomach, a comfort he had always associated with the humans in this house. Even all those years ago, listening in from under the deck, he'd felt safer than he'd never felt in the woods, not even in the cave. All those lonely nights spent wishing they'd stay up late, that the fire would last just a little longer, so they wouldn't pack up and go inside. Each creak of the wooden board above his head flaring a mix of fear and longing, both terrified and desperately hoping they might find him. And now, here he was.

Altogether too soon, Tom strummed the final chord and put a hand to the strings to quiet them. “How was that?” he asked, looking up. “Not too rusty?”

“I think you went into the wrong business. Why aren't you famous by now?”

Tom laughed, leaning back in the chair. “Don't really like the spotlight.”

“Says the guy who knows _everybody_ in town.”

“Let's put it this way. I did one – _one –_ open mic night at Tony's fifteen years ago and there's folks who _still_ call me 'The Singing Cop'. Lesson learned.”

“They're just jealous, cuz that was **so. Cool.** ”

“Well, I'm glad you think so.” Tom folded his arms atop the guitar, fixed his gaze on the boy. “If I'd known I had another fan in the house, I might've thought to break this bad boy out earlier.”

Sonic's ears drooped slightly. “Yeah well...” He hunched his shoulders. “Is that why you didn't? Cuz you didn't think I'd like it?”

“Bud, we only know what you like when you tell us. So far on the list we've got...” He held up a hand and started counting them off. “Keanu Reeves. Chili Dogs. Sports. Pizza. Bath Bombs. Running. When Maddie rubs your ears.” Sonic's face flushed but Tom went right on listing. “Walking the dog. Moose Tracks ice cream. Taco Tuesday at school. High fives. Mellow Yellow. Super Mario Brothers. There's probably a few I'm forgetting, but all that's to say that we want you to be comfortable here. I _know_ you've got a love-hate relationships with my puns, so, I don't know, maybe I thought singing the oldies might be...oh, what are the kids saying now? Cringe? Am I using that right?”

“I-I think so. That you got it right. Not that _you're_ cringe. Why's it matter what I think anyway?”

“Well, gee, I don't know, maybe because you're important to us? To this family? Sure, sometimes it feels like a badge of honor to swap 'how I embarrassed my kid this week' stories with the guys at work, but–”

“You talk about me at work?” Around him, the room fell out of focus.

“Of course.” Tom was smiling. “It's kind of fun. I never got to join in before.”

He blinked hard, turned his eyes down.

“Sonic?”

His hands fisted in the blanket, whole face hot, every muscle tensed. He felt a tingle at the tips of his quills and bit down hard on his bottom lip.

“Sonic...”

He shook his head, gaze laser-focused on his bedspread.

He heard the soft thunk of wood touching the floor and the squeaky wheel of his desk chair being rolled, and then the scent of cut grass and shoe leather and sugar was right under his nose. He raised his head, just slightly. Tom was down on one knee beside the bed, looking up at him with a sad smile. The tingle faded.

“Can I sit?” Tom asked.

A small nod, and the man was settling down next to him on the comforter. A big, warm hand came down on his shoulder and he took a shuddering breath. “Sorry...” he mumbled.

“When we first moved you in here, we never really laid anything out...about what we were thinking. I guess we've been dropping hints – some subtle, some not-so-much – and leaving it up to you to figure it out. We've been so worried about not pushing too hard that I think we just made everything more sticky. And I'm sorry about that.” He shifted, leaning in a bit closer. “Little known secret that you can't tell the kids at school: grown-ups have _no_ clue what we're doing most of the time.”

“Welcome to the club. We should get t-shirts made,” Sonic muttered, unable to even muster up a passable amount of snark in his voice, and the joke fell limp between them.

Tom cleared his throat, straightening up again. “So here's what I think - things are going to have to change around here.”

His chest seized up and he had to squeeze his burning eyes shut. Change, in his experience, was rarely a good thing. Change meant being shoved halfway across the universe under a hail of arrows, alone. “Why? What's wrong with the way it is now? We're best friends and that's _fine_ – I know I keep messing it up but–”

“We don't want to be your friends, Sonic.”

His stomach clenched. His heart pounded. His legs twitched.

“We want to be your parents.”

All as once he was back in the dirt, under the deck, silently watching.

Fearing.

Wishing.

Hiding.

Hoping.

They were words he'd been waiting for – for _years_. He couldn't possibly have just heard them.

Tom's voice was soft and tinged with uncertainty. “Is that...something you want too?”

He opened his eyes, but couldn't turn to look at the man beside him. Just that tiny movement seemed too much to ask his body, that was still hovering on the edge, making the air around them thick with static. Numbly, he realized Tom's hand was still on his shoulder. “What...” he managed, voice raspy, barely audible. “What does that mean?”

“It means, to start with, that day-to-day, things will pretty much look the same.” Tom's tone eased back to casual, more assured, and his hand moved, sliding down Sonic's arm and pulling the boy closer. “You'll get up, we'll take you to school, pick you up. We'll eat meals together and have movie-nights. You'll keep having to tell us when you need to go for a run, and maybe get a smart watch so we can call if you've been gone too long. You keep your room, but don't ever feel like you have to hide up here. We want you with us, when you want to be. If you need a break, sure, take a break, we might need one too sometimes. But we'll always come back together again.”

Sonic nodded, gripped his knees. “So what's different?”

“Different? Hmm. Well, to start we'll try to have these kinds of talks more often. The big, uncomfortable ones. Which, yeah, might suck, but might be good too. And we'll all try to not walk on eggshells around each other. When we mess up, we own it, we work to make it right, we move on. And we'll probably mess up a lot. So we'll get lots of practice making it right.” Below them, the sound of Maddie starting the dishwasher floated up the stairs. “Also...we might tell you we love you sometimes.”

His claws were suddenly digging into his knees from inside his gloves. “...what?”

“We love you, bud. You have turned our universe _completely_ upside down, but I wouldn't have it any other–” He was cut off as Sonic slammed into his chest, clutching at his Henley.

The floodgates had finally burst, but as Donut Lord's arms wrapped around him, he let the tears come as Maddie's words echoed in the back of his mind.

_“People cry for all kinds of reasons.”_

As he struggled to catch his breath, feeling the fabric against his face grow damp, he couldn't say that he was happy.

He _was_.

But that happiness was tangled up in ten years of grief and fear.

Swirled up in exhaustion and relief.

Peeking out from under doubt and denial.

And fighting like hell to make itself known.

The arms around him squeezed tighter and he shakily drew in air. “...w-why?”

The question, so small and unsure, hung in the air for a long moment, before Tom's voice, equally small, equally shaky, answered, “How could we not?”

Sonic opened his eyes, focused on the guitar (leaning against his desk like it belonged there) and clung tighter still. “B-but I...I'm so much _trouble_ ,” he said mournfully. “You guys had it so good before. I know. I _watched_ you. You were like this, this well-oiled machine and I'm just...just this wrench in the gears.”

“Hey. Hey.” Tom brought his hands to the boy's shoulders and eased him back so they could look at each other.

Or, at least, they _could,_ if Sonic didn't hang his head, eyes on the wet-spot on Tom's shirt.

“Sonic, look at me.”

The teen forced himself to do it, eyes red and watery.

“You belong here. With us. Six months ago I never could've imagined my life would look like this, and now we can't imagine life without you in it. All that time I spent wanting to get out of this town, to do something that matters... _this_ is what matters, Sonic. More than anything else I'll ever do.”

Sonic opened his mouth, but all that came out was a pitiable whine and he collapsed against Donut Lord's chest again. Damn these sweet, beautiful, wonderful people. He might as well have been eight again. How he wished he could be eight again. Strong arms held him tight and for a moment he let himself pretend.

Pretend he'd been spotted all those years ago.

Pretend he hadn't wasted so much precious time hiding.

Pretend he wasn't such a sobbing mess.

“You're ok, bud. You're ok. Just breathe.”

So he did.

He just breathed.

It was past 9 when they eventually made their way back downstairs, seeking and finding Maddie on the living room couch under a throw blanket. She looked up from her phone at the sound of the floorboards creaking and smile. “Hey.”

Tom ran a hand over Sonic's head gently. “Why don't you help Maddie pick out something short to watch and I'll go grab us a bedtime snack, ok?”

The hedgehog nodded, and then silently shuffled over to the couch, climbing up as Maddie shifted to make room. She put her phone down on the coffee table. “So was it anything like you remembered?” she asked.

In answer, he curled in close, wrapping his arms around her as far as they would go.

She returned the embrace,and asked softly, “What happened, baby?”

He didn't look at her, kept his face tucked into her sweater. “You...Tom said...you guys wanna be my mom and dad...”

“Absolutely.” She dipped her face down to kiss him between the ears. “Yes.”

He drew in a shuddering breath, waited for the burning in his tired eyes to fade. “Ok.”

“Ok.”

“Can we watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine?”

“You got it.”

“Ok.”

* * *

“Man, this time of year sucks.”

“It's not all bad.”

From his spot on the living room floor, Sonic didn't bother to lift his chin off of the coffee table, where his homework was laid out. “No, it sucks. It's too cold, it gets dark _so_ early, all my Halloween candy is gone...”

On the couch, magazine on her lap, golden retriever by her side, Maddie smirked. “Told you to ration it.”

“Yeah yeah.”

Beside her, her cell-phone buzzed and she glanced at it. “Oh, Tom's on his way home. Let's get Ozzie's walk in before he gets here.”

His ears perked up so forcefully they seemed to hoist his entire frame upwards because he was on his feet instantly. “Yeah, ok!” He dashed for the front door, Ozzie trotting close behind.

“Bundle up good, all right?” Maddie told him as she joined him in the foyer.

He paused with one shoe half-on. “How good?”

With a knowing look, she reached into the basket where they kept their hats and gloves and pulled out a pair of grey kid's sweatpants.

Sonic made a face. “Really?” Much like with the booster seat, they insisted on him wearing cold-weather clothes, no matter how much he assured them that he didn't need them. He'd come around a bit sooner than with the booster, though. Mainly because they'd taken him shopping and let him pick things he liked. It was harder to protest wearing his coat when it was bright red with reflective lightning bolt stripes on the sleeves.

“Really. It's cold, you said so yourself.”

He complied with only minimal griping (mostly for show), slipping the pants on and wiggling to get his tail through the little hole Maddie had cut out for him. Clothes in general were still weird, but he had to admit, these were cozy. He stepped into his sneakers and then beat her to grabbing his coat down from the hook on the wall (they'd installed one just his height below theirs). “Can I run while you walk?” he asked, zipping his coat up to his chin.

“Sure.” She finished buttoning her coat and then moved on to her scarf. “Just keep away from the roads. It's rush hour.”

He was jogging in place on the front porch as she hooked Ozzie's leash on. “Are we good? Are we good?”

She'd barely gotten out the 'Yes' before he was off. This was a routine he liked. He'd run a mile or two out, then back, check on their progress, and then dart off again. Over and over again, wearing now-familiar paths in the grass and underbrush all along the road, until they were drawing closer to the house. He met them at the end of the driveway, breath clouding in front of him and grinning widely. “Hey! Donut Lord beat us home!”

The minivan was in the driveway and as they walked past, something in the air caught his attention. Raising his nose up, he sniffed. Smoke. “Uh oh.”

“What?” Maddie asked.

“Stay here.” In a flash he was at the back of the house, at the source of the smell, and the rising tide of fear in his chest washed away, only to be replaced with bewilderment. “What the...?”

Tom was on the deck, stoking the fire pit. “Hey! There you are!”

“What are you doing?” Sonic jogged up the back steps, ears twitching.

Behind him, he heard Maddie's footsteps in the gravel path. “Hey...” She let Ozzie off the leash and climbed the stairs, crouching down to be at eye-level with him. “C'mere.”

“What?”

As he drew closer, she took his hand. “Did you come running back here because you smelled the fire?”

“Of course. I wanted to–”

“You can't do that.”

He quirked an eye-ridge. “Why?”

“Listen, I know you want to protect us, but it's not your job. We're the grown-ups. If you think something's wrong, you tell us, ok?”

Sonic scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the deck. “...ok.”

“Thank you.” She leaned in and rubbed her nose against his. “No more running into fire. Even if it _is_ just a little marshmallow fire.”

“A what?” Attention back on the scene around him, he did a slow spin, taking everything in. There were pizza boxes on the table, and sodas, and a bag of marshmallows. And sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs flanking the fire pit...was Tom's guitar. “What is all this?” he asked, even as the answer to the question was staring him in the face.

“We thought...” Tom said, as Maddie came up beside him and he swung an arm around her shoulders. “...that it was time you got to be up here with us, instead of watching from out there.” He waved a hand at the woods beyond the yard. “Whaddaya think?”

“You...you guys...” He looked around the space again, warmth flooding his chest. “But it's freezing out here.”

“The fire'll help with that,” Tom said.

“And, and it's just us. None of your friends...?”

“Next time,” Maddie said. She took a few steps closer and jammed her own beanie on top of his ears. “When the weather's warmer, we'll put the word out and see if some of our old friends are up for a reunion.”

“It'll be great. A lot of 'em have kids right around your age.” Tom opened the top box of pizza and started dishing out slices. “Memorial Day, Fourth of July, I bet we could really get this place hoppin' again.”

“You – I – really??” Sonic hardly even noticed the paper plate being placed in his hands, he was still beaming at them in disbelief.

Maddie steered him into a chair, put a can of Mellow Yellow in the cup-holder. “If that's something you'd like.”

“Are you kidding?? That sounds _amazing!_ ” He bounced, felt the weight of the food in his lap, and dug in, talking around the mouthful. “You fink we could get fireworks?”

“We'll see about that.” Tom laughed. “For now, let's eat.”

So they did. A whole pizza and a half, and then Tom settled in with the guitar and took requests, just like he used to, only he didn't know many of the current Top 40 hits Sonic kept requesting, so mostly he just played what he wanted to. He cajoled Maddie into singing a June and Johnny Cash duet but they didn't get through the first chorus before they were both laughing too hard to finish. Sonic hugged his knees and watched them, smiling to himself as a comfortable warmth settled in his chest.

Tom fell deep into the what Maddie declared to be the John-Denver-Ballad-Rabbit-Hole and as the fire slowly died, Sonic hugged his knees, eyelids growing heavy.

“...Talk of poems and prayers and promises, and things that we believe in. How sweet it is to love someone, how right it is to care.” Tom's voice washed over him, and he let his chin rest on his knees. “How long it's been since yesterday and what about tomorrow and what about our dreams and all the memories we share...”

By the time Tom had finished the song, the boy was asleep. Quietly, the adults put the food away and smothered the fire. Then Maddie took Tom's guitar so he could gingerly pick up the hedgehog, resting his furry head on a broad shoulder as they carried him up to bed. He didn't stir when they laid him down, or removed his coat and shoes. He didn't stir when Tom pulled the comforter up over his shoulders, or when Maddie kissed his temple and whispered, “We love you.”

They were tiptoeing to the stairs when they heard him.

“Love you guys too.”

They turned back, but his eyes were closed.

After they ever-so-carefully closed the attic door, Maddie wrapped both arms around Tom's middle, squeezing hard. He kissed the top of her head. “So I was thinking...”

“About what?” she asked.

“About how we could make this whole thing official.”

She pressed her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder, smiling. “That's not gonna be easy.”

“No. But it'll be worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took FOREVER and SO many edits and rewrites but I'm finally happy with it. A million hugs, as always, to the lovely @Humanities_Handbag for helping me make this chapter the best it could be!
> 
> For those of you who are curious, the two songs Tom plays are "You Don't Mess Around With Jim" by Jim Croce (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TajUFGstkk4) and "Poems and Prayers and Promises" by John Denver (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4d-NmoMHBbE).
> 
> I'm not sure how long the next chapter will take, but I'm hoping not quite this long. We'll see!
> 
> 4/19/20 - Updated to include illustrations by the FANTASTIC https://thebigpalooka.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> So the AMAZING folks over at Blue Hawk Audioworks are doing an audio-version of the fic!! 
> 
> The fist chapter is right here: https://youtu.be/XskxGBLgT0s


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